Tis a great day. There are two kinds of people today: The Irish and those who wish they were.
I'm not going to get to the parade, this work thing keeps getting in the way. But is our day nonetheless.
March the 17th, Sleep the 18th!
It almost started badly. I came really close to hitting a deer on my way down the mountain. He was beautiful, maybe six points, really something to look at. But on the road he was a 400 pound bag of shit ready to explode on contact. Still, he was graceful even though his hooves skidded on the pavement. One of us was destined for the woods. I'm thankful it was him.
My cousin, bless her, found a Joseph Hirsch lithograph in the Salvation Army store, it was signed by Hirsch. She is thinking of donating it to the holocaust museum. Kathleen, you mustn't be such a slave to fashion by purchasing your wardrobe at the Salvation Army.
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